#like a rack of ribs
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discojupiters · 7 months ago
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Found this pic of Mike and nearly fucking fainted when I saw his arms
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IVE NEVER SEEN HIS ARMS LOOK LIKE THAT IN A PHOTO FROM WHEN HE WAS THIS YOUNG BEFORE WHAT-
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theeminentlyimpractical · 1 year ago
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honestly “they’re not talking” is the funniest fucking thing Authorman could’ve unleashed on this horny ass fandom
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thecowboykatsuki-anon · 2 years ago
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On the rare occasion I join the boys at the gym, Kats pouts cause I only let Eiji spot me. It’s completely his own fault though after nearly getting me crushed under the bar while I was bench pressing.
He glanced down at me mid-rep, arms crossed and went “I’m getting deja vu from this position, princess,” with a sudden wolffish grin and suddenly all I could think of was the night before when he’d had my head hanging off the bed so he could watch my throat bulge with his cock while Eiji fucked me.
The comment caught me so off guard I faltered and the asshole was laughing too hard to properly get the bar completely off, so Eiji had to rush over and help lift it so I wasn’t crushed.
He still grumbles about it not being fair everytime I borrow Eiji to spot me and it takes everything in me not to flip him off everytime.
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mallalada · 7 months ago
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just seen across the spiderverse again. MAN i could chew miguel like gum (sexual)
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tinystepsforward · 3 months ago
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forget all the other "body ratios" the ratio i'm having trouble with is shoulder–waist bc i keep doing ostensibly stretchy bindoffs on cropped knit garments and then getting fucking stuck in them while trying them on bc i can't get them back over my shoulders without really making use of my hypermobility
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collaredkittyboy · 1 year ago
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Current theory on why I stay thin despite eating like shit and never exercising is just that there are No Nutrients in the food I eat and it usually gives me digestive issues so I just pass all of it without absorbing any of it
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moteldogs · 1 year ago
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I wasn’t built to be on my own. who is going to eat all this food I just cooked
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yoichichi · 1 year ago
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It’s my little brothers birthday today and i FaceTimed him to see what he was gonna have for his birthday dinner and apparently it’s just a whole rack of ribs 🫶😭🤍
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whitesuited · 2 years ago
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sharo.n carter, grill gremlin #confirmed..... also #confirmed ---- share will threaten you with a spatula if that's what is available to her.
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moth-time · 2 years ago
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Oh man this reminds me of a story a high-end chef friend told me.
So my friend was head cook in a fancy vegetarian restaurant. The meals there had a lot of small, very fancy courses meant to display a wide range of Cool Shit you can do with no meat. I’ve eaten there once, it was delicious and super interesting, and we all came out happy and full bc it added up to a LOT of food, but every course was relatively small and like- meant to be savored as a culinary experience.
But one time he had these guests, right, two parents and their teenage son. And the parents were having a great time, enjoying their fancy wine and their delicious, complex, fancy food, but the kid? The kid was hungry in that way only growing teens can be hungry, and didn’t have any wine, and was just overall not in a place in his life where ‘sitting for two-three hours savoring small bites of food meant as a layered sensory experience’ was fun at all. He was fidgety and bored, he didn’t like some of the dishes, and just overall looked absolutely fucking miserable.
And, yknow. A kitchen is a kitchen is full of people who want to feed you. The staff could tell this kid was miserable and trying to soldier through, and they all want ppl to leave their restaurant happy and this kid was absolutely not happy and that was not acceptable at all.
So. They made him a cheese sandwich. Like I’m talking a huge, gooey, melty, glorious cheese sandwich on hot buttery toasted bread, incidentally with really fucking good cheeses bc this is a high end restaurant, but no extra fuss or decoration or anything, bc this kid was hungry and miserable and what he needed right this moment was single, full meal with enough calories to incapacitate your average adult.
They made his day. Kid fucking inhaled that sandwich.
And the thing is, right- after eating that, and being actually sated, he ended up really enjoying the dessert(s)! Bc he was full enough to actually enjoy the taste of them.
im at a restaurant right now and there's this like 16 year old kid sitting at the table next to me completely alone with like 6 racks of ribs. hes eating like 1 rib every 10 seconds and the poor server who was assigned to him has to keep getting him new ribs. ive been here for an hour just watching this kid inhale ribs like he's gonna die the next day. he probably will given the amount of hot sauce he put on them
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arminsumi · 1 year ago
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ADULT STORE
↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."
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1.5k words
Pt. 2
Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)
Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈
Playme : wanna know what it's like?
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The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.
The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.
"Yo."
Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.
He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.
"Ah, h-hello..."
He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.
"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.
"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."
Yeah, that's what I thought.
He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.
"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"
His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.
"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."
Aw, of course.
"M'kay... then let me assist you."
He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.
"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"
"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.
I know exactly what she needs...
"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."
His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.
Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.
"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"
Aw, she's flustered.
"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."
Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.
"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."
There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.
He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.
"This one's got ten functions—"
"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."
"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."
The two of you share a long look, then laugh.
"But it really is an excellent product."
"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.
"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."
I could make her squirt.
He's running his eyes up and down your body.
"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.
"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."
He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.
"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.
A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.
Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...
He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.
"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.
You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.
He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.
"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.
"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.
He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.
"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."
"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."
Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.
His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."
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After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.
He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.
He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.
"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."
He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.
"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?
"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"
"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"
He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.
Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.
He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.
She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.
You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.
"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.
You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.
"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."
"Fuck, okay."
And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.
"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.
Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.
His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.
This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.
"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"
He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.
Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.
"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."
And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.
Please cum on my face. Please please please.
"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"
You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.
He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.
"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"
Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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werecreature-addicted · 7 months ago
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Werewolf boyfriend starts dating a human woman who secretly starts doing research on werewolf's. She asks his packmates and family about traditional things and eventually she finds out. About the sexually intimate gestures for werewolf's. He only finds out when she starts purposely baring her throat or presenting her cunt to him the first time they have sex. Then it hits him! All the things she's been doing to lure him into this committed relationship by tapping into his subconsciousness. She's gotten him to associate her as his mate.
it starts out with small, easily brushed-off acts, you made too much food so you brought him over the leftovers, it wasn't courting, it was just practical. He doesn't think to question how you managed to "accidentally" make an extra rack of ribs but he's just happy to eat. Then a little while later you get caught in the rain together and end up borrowing his jacket, when you give it back it smells like you. he won't deny it, he smells the hoodie over and over again until the scent wears off.
he's pretty upset when it starts smelling like him again, but luckily you're kind of forgetful and accidentally leave stuff over at his place all the time, jackets, shirts, jewelry, just lots of little stuff although he only seems to remind you you left it after your scent has worn off. He really likes it if/when you leave rings behind. they don't really hold your scent like clothes do but it's so small in his palm. it doesn't even fit over the tip of his fingers.
His mind goes completely down the gutter. his fingers would rip your pussy in half if he fingered you, your hands wouldn't even wrap around his cock properly, your hands are so small you're so delicate, why does that make him want you so bad?
You nuzzle him when you cuddle and always playfully bite him or seriously bite him slowly over time you just fall into a relationship. he doesn't even realize it but it just feels so natural to have you with him and it just makes sense to fuck you into to the mattress every chance he gets. you always let him knot you and bite your neck too, you're too sweet. eventually, he wants to do more, be more with you but then he really sits down and looks at your relationship and the only thing missing is the label "mate" Everything else is already normal for you two. What a tease he's going to have to punish you for that, not to hard of course he won't bully his little mate too harshly.
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theeminentlyimpractical · 1 year ago
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I’m off this site for 3 days dealing with my in laws visiting and I missed OX RIB SCENE DISCOURSE????? Teach me to ever log off again tell you h’wat
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ittybittyfanblog · 3 months ago
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Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)
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Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man.  Anyway, enjoy!  This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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It was close to midnight, and you're being followed.
On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega a little over a mile away from your apartment for about, three? five minutes– no, maybe even longer.
Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets were any indication.
As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.
You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.
This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar? 
Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even was this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they were in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were. 
But then, what were they here for? The dangers you were more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.
While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.  
With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.
You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack. 
A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!
You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle. 
“Now, now– the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip. 
 “I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.” 
You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur. 
Ch-chloroform?
You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you. 
“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”
Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.
The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin. 
The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.
The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips. 
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-
-
From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen. 
_____
In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City. 
Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All held significant power, all held ulterior motives.
A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn. 
Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval. 
“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp–then, “sir.” 
All in reverence. 
He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands���a demand for absolute deference. 
“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters. 
“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.” 
The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I guess that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.” 
Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response–but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to. 
Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger. 
He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection. 
The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial. 
All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man–no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear. 
The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.
Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.
_
Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.
_____
Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust. 
Having been awake for longer than your captors were aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience. 
“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?” 
“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.” 
Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you. 
In short, you have no idea where you are. 
Fuck–this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own. 
Think, think! What can you do?
What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic–
Wait a minute. Sylus. 
You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.
Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–
“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”
Fuck. No use pretending anymore. 
You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.
His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin. 
“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.” 
You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?” 
The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”
He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity. 
And here, the opportunity presents herself.” 
You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”
He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.” 
You feel it before you hear it. 
“Perhaps not.” 
Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.
But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.
Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.
Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.
A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room. 
Suddenly– 
Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise. 
Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness. 
His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You–”
Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool – lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him – as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction. 
You meet his eyes. “You came.” 
An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.” 
You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud. 
“Luke. Kieran.” 
“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.
 The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.” 
“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly. 
A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.
They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.
“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state at least. 
Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer. 
He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin. 
“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”
You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.” 
“I will.”
With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out. 
A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?” 
“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.” 
Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.” 
Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look. 
“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.” 
You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three. 
“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake. 
You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed. 
“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor. 
–––––
There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.
He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.
Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.
The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for. 
But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for – and someone has tried to steal it.
Harm. the treasure. To get to him. 
It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from. 
One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of. 
And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.
The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel. 
And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets. 
They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.   
Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them. 
_____
You arrive a quarter past four AM. 
Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.
“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.
In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.
You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.” 
(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.) 
With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed. 
With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh. 
Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.
You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”
Speak of the devil.
Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time. 
“How are you feeling?”
“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.
“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe. 
Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler. 
“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.” 
Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes. 
He’s joking. Right?
You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.
Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?” 
Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”
“That’s not what I asked.” 
He hums. “Do you really want to know?”
You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly. 
You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.” 
Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.
Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian. 
Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his. 
Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.
Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose. 
He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you– half-lidded and tender. 
In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”
The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”
He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.
“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.
"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."
“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”
While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.
You hum sleepily.
“Of course you would, Sy.”
_____
“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.” 
“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”
Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.” 
“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.” 
“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”
“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.
His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”
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midnightorchids · 3 months ago
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Jason cannot say “I love you” with a straight face. He always smiles, always. Serious situation or not, his teeth will show and his eyes will crinkle.
The first time he said it though, he was afraid. His palms felt clammy and his heart thumped hard against his rib cage. He was happy, but nervous nonetheless.
He stared at your back as you took the freshly baked cookies out of the oven, the aroma coated your kitchen and eased some of Jason’s nerves. He let you put the baked goods on the cooling rack before pulling your body into his. You laughed at the sudden display of affection.
“What’s up, handsome,” you giggled into his chest, pulling him closer. His hands tangled themselves around your body and he hummed softly. He placed a gentle peck on the crown of your head and ran his fingers along your clothed skin.
You stayed there, enjoying each other’s embrace and then, he pulled away. You groaned at the sudden loss of warmth and he laughed while ruffling your hair.
“I have to tell you something,” he said, already struggling to keep a straight face.
“Oh, so that’s what it was. You’re tying to butter me up Todd, what did you do this time,” you asked him with faux suspicion. He chuckled, but it was not his normal laugh. It was deeper this time, like he truly meant it, like for the first time in along time, he was truly happy.
He didn’t tease you with suspense and said it outright.
“I love you,” he exclaimed, a little louder than he had hoped, but the anxiety had made it difficult to control his tone. Any normal person wouldn’t have noticed the nervousness in his sentence, but you weren’t any regular person. You knew Jason like the back of your hand. And so, without missing a beat, you cupped both his cheeks in your hands.
You placed a gentle peck against the tip of his nose and softly caressed his skin, your fingers danced at the side of his jaw. Your hands felt warm against his skin and he let himself melt into your touch.
You stared into his emerald eyes and then quietly whispered, “I love you too.” His eyes lit up and he took your words as a sign to pull you into a deep, yet passionate kiss.
You smiled against each other’s lips and he said it again. “I love you, so so so much.”
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inkdrinkerworld · 9 days ago
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“Remmy look!” You point to a little jumper that certainly won’t fit either of you but he smiles anyway.
You’re seven months pregnant and Lily had warned you both that nesting took real effect now.
You’re out in town, just looking for little bits and odd ends to finish your baby’s nursery and a few more wintery clothes for them.
The jumper you’re pointing at is a small, buttercup yellow knitted thing and you can just see how perfect it would look on your daughter.
Instinctively, your hand rubs down your bump.
“Let’s have a look around then, dove.”
He helps you over the steps and further into the store. Remus realises belatedly that this may not have been the best idea because even he gets sucked into the tiny jumpers and onesies that would no doubt look adorable on your baby girl.
“Three things,” you limit the both of you, but both you and Remus know you’ll more likely be leaving with three bags.
You pick up the knitted jumper first, the pale buttercup yellow gorgeous and soft and it makes you wonder if they’d have your size too.
Remus picks the next thing, a cute baby blue onesie with little bunnies on them and booties with grips on the feet. “She’s gonna be so tiny.” He mutters, wonder taking over his tone because it’s truly amazing to think about.
“She is.” You browse around the store for a bit again, when you spot it.
The most gorgeous red and green plaid night dress- it’s also the most Christmas thing ever but you’re having a winter baby, it can’t be helped.
“Remus, look at it.” You waddle to the rack with the dress and rifle through till you find a newborn size and a size that she’ll be able to wear this time next year.
You hold it against your belly, slightly out of breath while Remus smiles. You glow with something fierce and even more powerful with your pregnancy, this sort of beauty that he harps on at night while you’re both soft and warm from a shower in your comfies while he rubs lotion on your bump.
“We’ll have to get booties for her, and maybe even stockings.”
You find them and get out of the store, the cashier smiling at you as Remus rubs your back when there’s a harsh kick against your ribs.
“Ready to get home? I just have to put the cottage pie in the oven.” He asks as he taps his card, your head resting on his bicep.
“Could we get a ginger ale on the way back?”
Remus nods, kissing your temple.
He holds open the door for you, hand on the small of your back as you walk down the step. “Just have to pop into the bookstore to pick up the books we ordered and we can get going, dove.”
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